


Sorry For The Nights I Can't Remember

by supernaturallylost



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drunk Dean, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Heartbreak, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, Pining Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 19:03:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7000870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernaturallylost/pseuds/supernaturallylost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean likes to drink often. In his mind, it's the only way he can rely on himself to tell the truth. Unfortunately for Castiel, it seems like Dean drinks just to torment him. Sam sympathizes with Castiel, of course, but has the time come for Cas to come clean with Dean?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Eight, on a scale of 1 to 10.

“We make the best love,” Dean slurred. He smiled so widely that his eyes were forced closed.

“What?” Cas asked with an eyebrow raised. The blush that started at his neck rose over his cheeks and the tops of his ears.

“Listen,” Dean grinned, leaning forward and pressing a finger to Cas’s lips. “We make the best life. Love. Like, life, you know?”

“I have no idea,” Cas answered easily against Dean’s sweaty finger on his lips. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Life is about love,” Dean explained smartly. He moved his hands in the shape of a circle and said, “The world is about love. Everyone says so. Dude, Metallica even said it!”

“When?” Cas raised both eyebrows and started to smile.

“Life, Cas,” Dean nodded. “We do it well. We’re alive, and we’re hunting things. You’re starting out as a hunter, and we’re doing good. We’re making life!”

“I don’t think that’s what that means, Dean,” Cas answered, blushing. He found himself regretting his decision to remain sober.

“I love you, man,” Dean said with some spit dropping from his bottom lip.

“How drunk are you?” Cas asked with an eyebrow raised.

“I love you, Castiel,” Dean repeated. He focused his eyes on Cas’s and reached out to grab Cas’s shoulder. “You’re a fucking angel, man. Hah! Angel man. There’s a moron of the ‘oxy’ persuasion!”

Dean started laughing whole heartedly, but Cas shook his head.

“It’s time to sleep now, Dean. Are you ready for me to take you home?”

Dean’s laughter faded into a seductive growl.

“Take me? Do you want to take me, baby?” Dean leaned forward. His cheeks were red, his eyes were watery, and he smelled tremendously of liquor.

“Let’s go home, Dean,” Cas sighed.

A few minutes of maneuvering Dean into the backseat of the impala, a couple seconds of twisting the key over and over again until the engine fully started, and an entire half an hour of driving later, Cas and Dean arrived at the bunker. Dean was still snoring in the backseat, but Cas knew he’d want to be in his own bed for the hangover the next day.

“Scale of one to ten?” Sam asked when he saw Cas struggling under Dean’s unconscious weight.

“Eight,” Cas answered. “He got to the ‘I love you’ stage.”

Sam shook his head.

“I’m sorry, man.” Sam tried to smile. “Maybe you should tell him how you feel. He would stop teasing you like that if you did, you know. He’s a good guy, really.”

Cas nodded, smiling like he didn’t believe Sam’s reassurance. Instead of feeling comforted, he tried to focus at the task at hand. He maneuvered Dean into his room, helped him onto his bed, and then reached down to take off his shoes and his belt so he could sleep comfortably.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed Cas’s wrist.

“I meant it,” Dean mumbled drunkenly.

“It’s okay, Dean,” Cas whispered. He pried his hand free from Dean. “Just go to sleep.”

“No, Cas,” Dean mumbled, slurring. His red eyes couldn’t focus, but he insisted on trying to find Castiel, who was standing in front of him. “I love you.”

“No you don’t,” Cas whispered, shaking his head easily. “It’s okay, Dean. Just go to sleep now.”

“Do,” Dean argued simply before passing out.

Cas rubbed his eyes and sat down on the bed beside Dean. He swallowed hard and tried not to think too much about anything.

When he found himself in the hallway, gently closing Dean’s bedroom door behind him, he realized there were tears in his eyes.

“Cas, man,” Sam said from his own doorway.

“It’s fine,” Cas said immediately, turning and walking the opposite way.


	2. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas clear the air, much to Sam's relief.

The morning brought apprehension into the bunker. Castiel and Sam sat at the breakfast table, drinking coffee, not speaking. The soft padding of footsteps down the hallway seemed to be what they’d been waiting for. Sam hurriedly stood, placed his half-full coffee cup in the sink, patted Cas on the shoulder, and walked away through the side door to the kitchen. Sam was gone for half a minute before something thudded against the main door to the kitchen.

“Ow,” Dean groaned from the other side of the door.

He pushed it open and stepped carefully into the kitchen, like he didn’t believe the floor could hold his weight. His eyes were wide and watery this morning as he zoned in on the coffee pot.

“Good morning,” Cas tried to smile casually.

He spoke in a rehearsed whisper that he had learned to use during Dean’s other binge drinking episodes. Appreciatively, Dean grunted, a hand pressed against his head to stop the ache.

“Remember anything?” Cas asked softly once Dean had a mug of coffee in his hand.

Dean shook his head simply, sat down beside Cas, and took a deep breath of the steam coming off of his cup.

“Didn’t do anything stupid, did I?” he asked roughly before taking a drink.

“No more than normal,” Cas smiled taking a sip of his own drink.

The two sat and drank in silence until Dean’s eyes could come into focus enough to notice the clock.

“Dude, it’s almost noon,” Dean groaned. “I’m sorry, Cas. You didn’t have to stay here. You said you wanted to go to the park today.”

Cas shrugged easily, saying, “That’s okay. I can always go later.”

Dean groaned, shook his head, regretted moving when the nausea took over, and then leaned down with his head in his arms.

Time passed. Dean thought it was seconds of silence, but if you’d asked Castiel, he’d say it felt like years.

“Dean,” Cas finally said. “I need to ask you something.”

Dena sat up and focused on the shy blue eyes in front of him.

“What’s up?” Dean said quietly. “You okay, man?”

Cas took a deep breath and leaned forward.

“You said,” Cas started. He closed his mouth, made an expression like he was trying to solve a complicated math equation, and then rephrased. “Whenever you drink, you say the same thing.”

Dean looked away to hide his face for a moment, but when he looked back at Cas, his eyes were full of questions. Without speaking, he leaned back and asked Cas to continue.

“It doesn’t bother me that you say it,” Cas explained quickly, “but I think you should know what it means.”

“Do I speak in a different language or something?” Dean snorted softly. “That year of Spanish in middle school must have made an impression, huh?”

Cas shook his head uneasily.

“No, it’s English, Dean.” Cas took a deep breath. “You always say that you love me.”

Dean froze. For a moment, Cas almost believed that the whole world stopped. Nothing moved and neither of them breathed. Cas broke the tension by speaking again, in a rush.

“I know you don’t mean it that way,” Cas insisted, his words meshing together with how fast he spoke, “and it’s okay. I just thought you should know that it’s sometimes hard for me to hear you saying it over and over. Last night, you tried to convince me you were serious. I know you weren’t in your right mind, Dean, so don’t worry about it. I just…”

Dean stared at Castiel.

“I just wanted you to know that it’s hard for me to remember you don’t mean it,” Cas continued, finally slowing down. After a small pause, he finished with, “…because I love you.”

Dean didn’t react right away. His eyebrows sort of twitched as they furrowed, and his eyes squinted a little bit as they scanned over Cas’s face repeatedly. Dean’s grip on his coffee cup loosened and he rested his hands flat on the table. His jaw clenched and he checked discreetly to make sure Sam was not in or around the room. Then, Dean did something neither of them expected.

He stood up and left the room.

Cas stared at the door and felt the air leave his lungs in one quick rush. He gasped for air, trying to recover from the clear rejection that had just occurred.

Then…

…

…footsteps.

Dean stopped in the doorway. He was holding a picture in his hands. Slowly, with measured steps, he walked forward and placed the picture in front of Cas.

“Who’s in the picture, Cas?” he asked quietly.

Castiel frowned, looked at the picture, and listed names. “Bobby, Ellen, Jo, Sam, you, and me.”

Dean nodded. He sat down in front of Cas, pointed at the photo, and spoke very purposefully.

“This is a picture of people that I love.”

Cas’s shoulders fell and he shook his head.

“Dean,” he started.

“No,” Dean interrupted seriously. “Listen to me, Castiel. Me, I’m used to being tired and bloody, but you believed I could really be someone. You put your world on hold for me, Cas, and you followed me through failure and fire.”

“Dean, stop,” Cas said, his voice breaking.

“No,” Dean answered easily. “I’m afraid, Cas. I’m not… I’ve never…”

Cas waited, his brows furrowed.

“I love you, Cas,” Dean said. “It scares me. When I drink, I can push away the fear enough to tell you how I feel. It’s too hard when I’m sober. It… it makes me crazy, Cas. I’ve fallen for you, and I never thought… I never suspected you might actually…”

The entire table was pushed away in one quick motion before Cas was pressed tightly against Dean, his lips pressing against Dean’s perfectly.

“I’m sorry,” Dean breathed around Cas’s lips. “I’m so sorry you ever thought I didn’t care. I'm sorry for the nights I can't remember, the nights I should have been showing you how much I love you.”

“It’s okay,” Cas whispered, breathing heavily over Dean’s lips. “Dean…”

When they pulled apart, Cas was sitting in Dean’s lap with tears falling down his cheeks.

Dean winced.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t think the coffee’s cured my hangover yet,” he laughed briefly. Then he took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry, Cas.”

“Dean Winchester,” Cas shook his head. “Sam and I thought you were being insensitive the whole time, but you meant it all…”

“Sam?” Dean said, taken aback. “He knows about this?!”

Cas blushed, nodded, and stroked Dean’s neck. Suddenly Sam appeared from the side door to the kitchen. He saw the table out of place, Cas sitting in Dean’s lap, and the photograph of his family lying on the ground. Shaking his head, he gave them a thumbs up. He left the room the way he’d come, saying,

“Finally...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i1MeENCvDu0

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


End file.
